The Reluctant Exhibitionist Ch. 04

Author's Note: This is a continuation of a very popular series called The Reluctant Exhibitionist about Wendy Wilson, a young college co-ed who is blackmailed into participating in naked-on-demand public exhibitionism. The original series was first posted on the ASN Stripping Forum by an author named Falcon and after he abandoned the story he gave me permission to continue it and I've written three chapters so far. I hadn't been sure where to go next with the story until several weeks ago when I got an e-mail from Falcon. He offered to send me some fragments of a chapter he'd started writing but had never completed and I happily accepted. What he sent was great, as usual, and it provided me with the setup for the next chapter in the series. He gave me the freedom to continue on and write it as I saw fit and I incorporated his writing into mine as seamlessly as I could. So this is a collaboration between the two of us.

For those interested in reading Falcon's original series, send me a feedback with your e-mail address and I'll send it to you. Although this story makes references to events in previous chapters I believe it works well enough as a standalone story to be enjoyable to those unfamiliar with the rest of the story.]

THE RELUCTANT EXHIBITIONIST -- BACK TO SCHOOL

By Seahawk76 and Falcon

It's Saturday morning again which means that all-too-familiar brew of dread, excitement, fear, anticipation, and arousal is beginning to course through my body. Just another Saturday in the crazy life of Wendy Wilson, which means another afternoon meeting with Nancy Johnson and whatever humiliations she had in store for her naked little puppet today. In many ways this would be no different than the past twelve Saturdays, with one big difference: summer is over and Nancy's "summer job" jar is empty. Believe me, I have no illusions about what that means.

I made myself a cup of tea and walked out onto the balcony of my third floor apartment and sat cross-legged in the armless chair I'd placed there. In the distance, beyond the trees, I could see edge of my college campus and I knew it would be buzzing with activity today. You see, the fall semester was about to begin which meant the relative summer calm on campus was over. I thought back again, for the umpteenth time, on the deal I'd made with Nancy to keep from being expelled after turning in a plagiarized term paper, and I shuddered to think what kind of plans she might have for me in the coming school year. As humiliating as things had been up until now, I knew they could get much worse. In fact, Nancy kept telling me that they would.

Nancy had started me off slowly with naked car rides and "t-shirt training" where I'd be exposed to crowds wearing nothing but a thin, body hugging t-shirt. The whole idea was to push me slowly but firmly toward her goal of living vicariously through a reluctant young co-ed who'd be forced to live out her exhibitionist fantasies for her. Nancy's plan had worked all too well and "Phase 1" of my training eventually culminated with nude walks through a supermarket and a home improvement store, which I couldn't have imagined doing in my wildest dreams just a few months earlier.

And after that day of naked store walks and the introduction into "Phase 2" of my training, it was full speed ahead with the program. Each Saturday afternoon I would show up at Nancy's house and draw one of a dozen envelopes out of a jar containing nude-in-public scenarios that Nancy had dreamed up for me. Even though there was some randomness to the process, they were all designed to get me used to exposing myself to strangers for brief periods in a variety of situations. There were more nude store walks, walks through sections of parks, walks down a few blocks of residential streets, walks through tourist areas and so on. Later I came to realize that these were all pretty much the classic scenes that real exhibitionists indulge in, but it was all so new and outrageous and unimaginable to think that I was doing these things myself.

And as the summer wore on, at times the bizarreness of my predicament would just overwhelm me. Having to do this was just so unexpected, something that no girl ever worries about happening to her. I mean, it's different that way from a girl's fear of being raped. Every girl knows, at least in the back of her mind, that being raped is a real possibility. Not that you dwell on it or live in constant fear of it, but you know it can happen, even though nobody thinks it will happen to them. At least its something you've contemplated and dealt with and filed away in your mind someplace.

This was so different. I mean, in my wildest imaginings, it had never, ever occurred to me that the possibility existed that someday someone would force me to go out in public totally naked. Or that they would make me do it over and over again. Oh sure, I had the naked-in-public dream on occasion, just like everybody else does, but when you wake up from that you know its just a silly nightmare, and that its not something that really happens to anybody. But it really was happening to me, and I knew it was going to keep happening. And the knowledge that another woman was choosing this for me, and was forcing me to do these things with no choice whatsoever on my part, was always part of my consciousness. It became a source of humiliation separate and distinct from the humiliation which came from actually being out in public naked. That humiliation would end -- temporarily - once the particular scene was over, although of course the memory stayed forever. But the humiliation of being her helpless toy was always with me.

And she loved to tease me about my predicament, which of course made things ten times worse. I could always sense her smug amusement and satisfaction as she forced me through scene after scene of public nudity, and she in turn seemed to know exactly how it was for me to have to do it. I guess that shouldn't be too surprising, since after all these were her own fantasies I was acting out. The fact that she herself was so consumed by the nude-in-public fantasy, and had actually attempted to act it out herself, only to back down when she realized the true awfulness of the reality, I think gave her a full awareness of just how awful it was for me. But instead of engendering sympathy from her, the vicarious thrill and excitement she got from forcing me to do it just made her want to make it even worse by taunting me.

But I've got to admit that, as bizarre as it was, I still reached a level of acceptance as my training progressed that summer. I really didn't have a choice. After I decided once and for all to go along with her, and after I realized she wasn't going to relent in any way, I more or less resolved to just accept my assignments without protest. Now, don't get me wrong, I never, ever, became a willing participant in any of it. But it was just that I knew that if I agonized over the decision each and every time, it would eventually drive me insane. Not that I was at all assured of keeping my sanity as it was. But I was somehow able to put aside my rage at the big picture of what was being done to me, and instead just focused on getting through the scenes, one by one, as they were thrust upon me.

And in a sense, Nancy actually kept it fairly manageable for the first part of the summer. For awhile she didn't make me go beyond the pattern of fairly quick excursions in front of unknown strangers; people I'd hopefully never see again. She always took me pretty far from campus, a lot of times even out of town. She was always careful to not put me in a situation where I might get hurt or where I might get caught and get arrested for indecency or something. And I was always amazed how, just like that day in the grocery store, people just tend to let a naked girl do her thing. And although I never got over the anxiety or stomach butterflies or dread of what I was having to do, after she had made me do it enough times I really did get to a point where I could more or less just obey my orders automatically. Once again, she had successfully conditioned me to accept a new level of humiliation. It was around this time that I really started to understand what she meant by all her talk about training and step-by-step progress in pursuit of turning me into a real exhibitionist. I could look back now with amazement on the few months she had been blackmailing me, amazement at how she had been able to get me to do the things I was doing. And with what I now know was incredible naiveté, I believed that watching me on these types of naked excursions would satisfy her perverse fantasies. Surely this was all she would want - I mean, I was doing exactly the things she herself had fantasized about - being naked in public settings. As the summer went on, and as I got ever more used to doing it, I let myself hope, and believe, that it wouldn't get any worse. Boy was I ever wrong.

Early in the summer Nancy had told me that she expected me to spend at least twenty minutes out naked in public on whatever scenario I drew out of the summer jobs jar; anything less than that and she'd add another excursion for me to do on our way home. After a few weeks I realized that no matter how long I thought I was out, the time always magically came in at just under twenty minutes. When I finally confronted her on this she ended the farce and told me that I was doing so well that there was no reason to limit my training to only the task I'd drawn out of the jar. After that she chose things for me to do that were often worse than whatever "job" I had drawn that week.

For instance, she'd deliberately choose a convenience store with a full parking lot, so she knew there would be lots of customers inside. Somehow she would always pick one with only one clerk working, so there would be a long line at the cash register. And of course, I'd have to buy something and therefore wait in the line. That could take ten or fifteen minutes, which may not sound like much, but when you're the only one naked, and everyone is just staring at you, believe me, it seems like forever. I was usually instructed to use the "lost bet" explanation in those days, if an explanation was needed. And once people heard that, it seemed like it made them feel free to make the most of my situation. Silly girl got herself into this, we might as well fully enjoy her mistake. There would always be some moron who would try to strike up a conversation with me, all the while letting his eyes rove unrestricted up and down my body. And while I had to deal with him, all the other bystanders would feel free to partake fully in the visual feast too. Under orders from Nancy, I was never allowed to cover up at all, so I always just had to stand there naked while they all watched me trying to act like everything was normal.

But my exhibitionist assignments weren't the only requirements Nancy had placed on me this summer. She had registered me for summer school to keep me around for more "training," and had also enrolled me in an acting class ("it will help you handle your public performances, and with some of the role-playing you'll be doing later"), and in an aerobics class ("we have to keep that fabulous body of yours in top shape, dear"). Even though controlling my life in this way paled in comparison to my forced public nudity, it added tremendously to my feelings that I was becoming a complete slave to her fantasies. For her part, however, she acted more like a doting, obsessed stage mother rather than a perverted dominant mistress or whatever you'd call it. She would fuss over my hair and makeup before each assignment, and praise me over and over for my beauty and courage afterwards. An obsessed stage mother all right, but one who forced me into performance after performance that no mother would ever dream of for a daughter.

I took another sip of tea and thought about that paper I used have to write back in grade school at the beginning of fall classes: "What I Did On My Summer Vacation." God, what a potboiler that would be now! My final summer assignment last Saturday had been a nude car wash at one of those self-service car washes. After I finished washing Nancy's car in front of a crowd, she had me wash the guy's car in the next bay over, using my breasts as sponges. The girl who was able to do something like that was so far removed from the rather naïve girl who started school here just one year ago that she may as well have been a different person. In many ways she was.

After we got back to Nancy's place that day she poured me a glass of wine and toasted the end of Phase 2. "What comes next?" I'd asked nervously, not really sure I wanted to hear the answer. "The next part," she answered coyly.

The next part. Whatever that means it starts today and I have a sick feeling that someday I'll look back on this past summer as relatively tame by comparison.

II

Nancy gave me her usual cheerful greeting as she let me in. She led me into her living room where to my surprise, and immediate unease, two other women were already seated on the couch. I recognized them at once -- both were students on campus. But unfortunately my familiarity went well beyond that. Nancy handled the introductions.

"I understand you girls all know each other. Wendy, Taylor and Cindy stopped by for a little visit, and it's just so fortuitous you were planning to come by, too. We've all got a few things we need to discuss." I wondered momentarily what she might be talking about, but I didn't think about it for long. Instead I was remembering, without any fondness at all, my past acquaintance with Taylor. She was from my hometown, and we had never gotten along too well growing up and in high school. Her dad was in a business competing with my dad, and there had always been sort of a rivalry between our families. Nothing too hostile, just one of those silly country club socialite clique things. It had carried over to the kids, so Taylor had been in rival social circles all through high school. She was always jealous of my better looks and figure, but I just generally had tried to not let those things bother me.

The other girl also brought an unpleasant memory. Cindy was the one who showed me the website where I got the term paper last spring. I hadn't seen her since. As I recalled, she was a couple of years older than me, which meant she was about to start her senior year. As I sat down, I remember thinking, girl, if you only knew what your "advice" had led to. I wondered what connection she had with Nancy, but then I remembered we had all been at some of the same parties my freshman year.

As usual, Nancy had a bottle of wine open. The others already had glasses, and Nancy poured one for me. They engaged in idle chit-chat for awhile, but I didn't really have much opportunity to join in. I was finding it hard to focus, given my usual concern over what Nancy may have cooked up in the way of a new adventure, so I hardly even followed the thread of the conservation. It was something about the excitement of getting back to school, but somehow I couldn't really empathize.

But at length the conversation died down, and Nancy took the opportunity to bring me back in. "Well, now's as good a time to broach the subject as ever. Wendy, Cindy and Taylor have something they'd like to discuss with you," she said. For a moment it was quiet, as the two girls seemed uncertain how to begin, but then Cindy leaned forward and began to speak.

"Well, Wendy, Taylor and I are both members of the Sigma Pi sorority. Taylor's a new pledge. Every fall, when all the students get back into town, we host a back-to-school bash at our house. It's probably not the biggest party on campus, be we always try to make it one of the best. We usually invite a couple of the fraternities over and basically just make it an all-day bash with food, a few kegs, games, and so on..."

She went on to earnestly and enthusiastically describe the event in more detail, as if I cared the tiniest bit about it, which I didn't. She finally concluded, "Anyway, the party's next Saturday, and we were wondering if you ..." Then she trailed off, as if she were uncertain what to say next.

"Well, what?" I asked, not knowing where this was going. The two girls looked at each other, and exchanged giggles.

"Maybe you better explain to her," Cindy finally said, looking to Nancy.

"I suppose so," Nancy said. She turned and just looked at me for several moments. Then she spoke, "Wendy, Cindy and I go back quite a ways. She's done some enormous favors for me in the past, including one involving you. You see, it was no accident Cindy showed you that website last spring. She did it on my instructions. It was kind of a team effort which brought you and I together, you might say." She paused to allow me time to fully appreciate the import of her words.

With growing shock at the revelation, I turned toward Cindy, fury in my eyes. "You! Why you little..." Lifting a hand, Cindy cut me off.

"Hey Wendy, nobody made you cheat on that paper," she said sharply. "That was your decision." She was right, of course. I could only stare are her, furious. Then I realized with sudden horror that Cindy, and probably Taylor too, and God knows who else, must know all about my new little "career" with Nancy. The one decent thing Nancy had done so far was to schedule most of my adventures far away from campus, so I could at least lead a somewhat normal life at school. The thought that some of my fellow students might know about it after all made me want to crawl away and hide. I flushed bright red and squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, breaking off my glare at Cindy to stare instead at the floor.

Then another horrible thought began to take form. What was this little meeting all about after all? What was this about their party - and me? I desperately stopped my mind from imagining any more, but I couldn't stop a sudden, icy chill from beginning to settle over me.

Nancy had started talking again. "Anyway, Wendy, when Cindy called to remind me of their big party, it occurred to me what a marvelous opportunity it would be for you and I to further your development. I've brought her and Taylor up to date on what you've been doing this summer, and I've taken the liberty of offering them your services for their party, if they felt they could use them. I must say," she went on, winking at the other two mischievously, "their response has been most enthusiastic."

Cindy picked up the cue. "All too happy to help you with your new career, Wendy. Taylor and I are in charge of arranging the entertainment for our party, and we think your 'talents' could be put to good use!"

All I could do was groan inwardly in agony. I had been through enough with Nancy by that point that I was beyond the outwardly obvious, outraged reaction to this kind of news. But inside, in my head and in my guts, it remained as bad as the first day, and I knew it always would. I looked from Nancy, to Cindy, to Taylor, hoping to see even a faint hint of sympathy from any of them, any sign this was just a cruel joke. But I saw only the three of them smiling broadly back at me. Then Nancy got up and poured me another glass of wine. Nobody spoke for a long time. I think I just sat for awhile with my face in my hands. But even now, the strength I had built up over the summer didn't leave me.

Finally I looked up and sighed. "Get on with it," I said, calmly. "What do I have to do?" Cindy spoke up earnestly, obviously relieved the awkward moment had passed, "Well, to tell you the truth, Wendy, we haven't actually finalized the details of your part yet. We just know we'd like to make use of some of the talents Nancy has been helping you develop. Some of the things she's told us about sound really exciting. We wanted to go ahead and let you know about it today, just to make sure your schedule's free, and to give you some time to think about it." Her tone was one of feigned friendliness, as if she were planning the party arrangements with an equal, like one of her sisters in the sorority.